


Yours Or Mine

by MrsWhozeewhatsis (OxfordCommaLover)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 06:35:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26967598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OxfordCommaLover/pseuds/MrsWhozeewhatsis
Summary: Y/N takes on a spell to save Sam.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	Yours Or Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Holy moly, I WROTE SOMETHING!! And then @littlegreenplasticsoldier and @manawhaat made it into something worth reading. That’s not hyperbole.
> 
> Written for the @spnfanficpond‘s S14 Weekly Episode Challenge Week 18. (So, I’m a little late. No biggie, right?) I used two of the prompts: #2. “Together? Alone?” and #3. “Are you still afraid of me?”

The plan was simple. The Winchesters would keep the witch busy while you found and freed the victims. It was a simple plan that had worked dozens of times. You were the less experienced hunter, and they were the freaking Winchesters, so it only made sense. Time after time, the plan worked. They huffed and they puffed and kept all the focus on them while you snuck around like a mouse finding the cheese.

Until today.

Today, you decided to change the plan. Every other hunt before today, you had listened with one ear while the monster of the week monologued. They’d talk about how they would peel the skin from the Winchesters’ bones and then make soup with the remains. Dean would joke he’d rather be pie than soup, keeping the focus on him, while Sam set up the killing blow. Threats of torture, killing everyone they’ve ever loved, burning down the world… each one was met with a sarcastic comment or two, quickly followed by the monster’s demise. You’d learned long ago to let the threats go, like water off a duck’s back. There wasn’t anything any monster could threaten that would scare the Winchesters, and therefore you. As Sam had once said, he’d been tortured by the Devil, himself. What could anything on earth ever do to top that?

The witch held Sam with a tight grip on his hair, while Dean hung from the usual invisible force on the wall across the room. The cords in Sam’s neck were standing out while he tried to shake the woman’s hold, but her fingers were well tangled in his ad-worthy luscious locks. Basically, everything was going according to plan.

With her free hand, the witch tossed ingredients into a bowl, then pushed Sam away, leaving him to fall on the floor. She brushed some debris from her hands and sighed happily. “This spell is so genius! I don’t even know what it will do to the likes of you, hunter. It’s different for everyone, you see.” With one hand, she sent Sam flying into the same wall Dean was hanging from while grabbing a spoon and stirring with the other. 

_ Ambidextrous witch bitch, _ you thought while turning to quietly open a closet door and search for possible victims or anything else of interest _._ You silently cleared room after room, your ears perked for anything out of the ordinary. Her voice floated around the corner and down the hall, almost too faintly for you to hear. But you did. 

“It keys in on your greatest fear, and that’s what it shows you. Some people survive, some don’t.” Tapping the spoon on the edge of the bowl, she sniffed the fumes over the potion and smiled. “Poor dear Lilian MacIntyre died from fright and her worst fear was only spiders! Considering your line of work, and the myriad of monsters you’ve no doubt encountered, I suspect you won’t live through the night.”

You froze in your tracks. A personalized spell? The worst fears of either Winchester could definitely kill them. The demons alone would be nasty, but they’d fought God! What could be scarier than that? 

You, however, had much more mundane fears. More along the line of Lilian MacIntyre’s spiders. Okay, maybe a little worse than spiders, since you were a hunter, but still. If you knew it was a spell, you could look past whatever it threw at you, because you’d know it wasn’t real. 

But could Sam?

Your heart ached with the idea of sweet Sam facing whatever his greatest fear was, and your body moved before you could second guess yourself. The Winchesters would be mad that you’d gone against the usual plan, and Dean would probably yell at you for the entire drive back to the Bunker, but these were not usual circumstances. You moved as quickly and quietly as you could back down the hall and peeked around the corner to see what was happening.

The witch had taken the bowl and headed towards Sam, gathering up the paste she’d made with her fingers. Without a second thought, you ran into the room, tackling her from the side, knocking her down while you fought to stop all her movements. You straddled her waist, desperate to pin down her hands before she could do anything hurtful with them. In the scuffle, her potion-covered hand gripped your arm, and she began murmuring breathlessly in Latin. You knocked her hand from your arm and ducked to the side to avoid her hitting your face with her other hand at the same time a shot rang out, the sound echoing in the small, dank room. The witch went limp, a bloody hole appeared in the middle of her forehead, and you fell on top of her from the sudden lack of resistance. 

Two strong sets of hands pulled you off her body and across the room, setting you down on the floor where you could lean against the opposite wall. You looked up at the boys, both of them staring down at you with concern in their eyes.

“She’s dead, so I guess I don’t have to worry about this gunk?” you asked, wiping the paste from your arm onto your pants. “Kill the witch, kill the spell, right?”

You smiled up at Dean and Sam, breathing a sigh of relief at the same time they did. They each offered you a hand and helped you up off the floor. Standing between them, you shook out your limbs and straightened your clothes while they checked you over for injuries.

“Yeeeeeaaaaaahhhhhh. Not so much,” said a voice from behind the Winchesters.

In the other corner of the room, sitting on a low table covered with witchy paraphernalia, holding one of the witch’s spell books, was Lucifer.

Gasping, your eyes widened, and you took a step back. Both Winchesters tensed, reaching out for you, but you kept backing away from them… away from Lucifer.

“Looks like you and I are gonna be bunk buddies for a while, Y/N!” Lucifer squealed with unbounded glee. “I never got to spend much time with you before. Sammy was always so overprotective.” Lucifer stepped between the brothers, advancing towards you, forcing you backward until the wall stopped you. Fear sent a shiver down your spine and your heart raced. “Are you still afraid of me? Little ol’ _me?_ I’m flattered! I mean, I’m dead, you _know_ I’m dead, and yet I still strike fear into your little baby hunter heart.” He was close enough to fix the collar of your jacket now, leaning into you until you shrank down the wall to get away from him. “That’s honestly adorable!”

Sam’s face suddenly appeared _through_ Lucifer’s, blotting out blond hair and blue eyes with his own friendly features while his hands grabbed your upper arms to keep you still. “Y/N! What’s wrong?”

Gulping in air to stuff down the panic, you concentrated on Sam’s eyes. They had enough colors in them that you were able to focus by counting the flecks until you were calm enough to speak.

“Spell worked,” you tried to say, but the words still caught in your throat. You coughed to clear the anxiety and tried again. “Even though she’s dead, it still worked.”

Sam’s face collapsed in worry and he wrapped his arms around you when you fell face-first into his chest, trying to block out Lucifer, who was now waving his arms off to the side, trying to get your attention. Warm in his embrace, you realized two things: 

First, you either weren’t as afraid of Wendigos as you thought you were, or _you had taken on Sam’s fear_. 

Sam had always kept you far away when Lucifer was around. You’d been practically banished from his life for almost two years while Lucifer roamed free, kept safe by hunting with Garth or Jody. You only knew what he’d looked like because you saw Nick in his coma after Lucifer was killed, the draw of wanting to help Sam look for Dean/Michael too much to resist. The witch obviously added Sam’s hair to the spell, so his deep-rooted fear and the blurry visions of his memories now passed on to you. 

Second, there was no way you could tell Sam exactly what you were seeing. Knowing you were going through his pain, his fear? It would break him. He didn’t need to know.

“Awwww, you two are so cute together! Does the big lug know how you feel about him? That you dream about him? Hmmmm??” Lucifer’s voice wasn’t even muffled by Sam’s arms as he held you. Even though you couldn’t see him with your eyes closed, he was still goading you, making kissy noises, and you growled, pushing yourself away from Sam’s chest.

“Shut up!!” you yelled, realizing your mistake when Lucifer’s face creased into a bright smile.

He hugged himself and giggled. “Yay! She said shut up to me!” He smacked his hands on either side of his face and grinned. “We’re gonna have so… _much_ … _FUN!!_ ” Dropping his hands, he jumped up and down and clapped like a child. Your heart sank.

“Y/N,” Sam said again, with urgency, telling you that it wasn’t the first time he’d said your name. He cupped your face with his hands, making you stare into his eyes, again. His brow furrowed with care and guilt, and you wondered if he already knew what you were seeing, even though it was impossible. “Y/N, whatever you’re seeing, it isn’t real. I’ve been where you are, so I know what I’m talking about. I know it’s hard to work through it, but just focus on what you know is real and try to tune out the rest. There’s nothing there, I swear.”

Nodding, you closed your eyes and tried to just keep breathing. Lucifer wasn’t real. Even though you could still hear him clapping happily, he wasn’t really there.

Sam tucked you under his arm as he turned to talk to Dean. They discussed what they’d have to do to figure out the spell to reverse it, all while Lucifer repeated your name and tugged on your sleeve like a child, begging for attention. You stared at the floor, trying to block out the hallucination, trying to keep yourself calm.

_ It’s just annoying _ , you thought to yourself.  _It can’t touch you. It can’t hurt you. It’s just a spell. All it can do is annoy you. You can put up with this until the Winchesters figure out how to reverse it. No biggie._

***

Well, you were wrong about it not being able to hurt you. Lucifer could certainly hurt you. It wasn’t permanent, but it still hurt. And, fuck a duck, he was _loud_. You hadn’t slept in two days, but you’d managed to keep your secret from Sam, so you figured you were still ahead of the game. You’d told him that it was your Great-Aunt Dottie telling you all the different ways you’d screwed up your life, which explained you telling Lucifer to shut up. He’d looked at you with a mix of confusion and concern at that, so you weren’t sure he’d accepted your answer, but he’d stopped asking, at least.

Lucifer’s torture had cycled through petty teasing, to graphic descriptions of torture, to slicing into your skin, to creeping on you in the shower, and all the way back to picking apart everything about you. He especially liked to talk about your feelings for Sam. Through it all, you tried to stay stoic. _Sam couldn’t know_.

The day before, with Rowena on the phone, they’d tried three different spells designed to either reverse the original spell, dispel all spells, or just reduce the symptoms so you could sleep. Nothing worked. After the last attempt, you couldn’t hear anything _but_ Lucifer for a while, but through it all, Lucifer was just as loud as ever. Rowena promised she’d be there soon.

The second night, while Lucifer was tossing darts at you, you had an idea why nothing was working, and Lucifer had agreed: The initial spell had used some of Sam’s hair. The witch had been holding him by the hair, and then brushed her hands over the bowl. The original spell was keyed to Sam, but all the counter spells you’d tried were either keyed to you, using your hair, or were just generic, not keyed to anyone. Sam was the key.

Now, you were sitting in the library, listening to Lucifer sing off-key while perched on one of the wingback chairs, and trying to ignore the way the brothers’ faces would randomly appear to have bloody wounds for no reason. You’d given up on trying to research, really, just staring at the same page of the same book hour after hour. 

“Pay attention to me,” Lucifer whined before a knife lodged into your thigh. Pain lanced through you and you were unable to control your flinch and gasp.

“Stop it, you little bitch!” you yelled at the apparition. Anger flooded you with adrenaline, and on top of two nights without sleep, that knife felt bloody real.

“Do you know, Sammy was able to deal with petty injuries like that far better than you are. I once thoroughly dissected his left knee without him letting out more than a whimper.”

“Do _you_ know that I’m totally aware that you’re only a figment of my imagination and therefore nothing you say is true?” you retorted, absently trying to lessen the pain of the knife by rubbing your leg around the wound.

Lucifer stood up and approached you, walking through a low bookshelf in the process. “You know as well as I do that the spell transferred more than just some irrational fear. I may not be solid, but I’m based in reality.”

“Bullshit!” you argued, then realized both brothers were staring at you with wide eyes. Your brain wasn’t going to be stopped by simple embarrassment, though. You had an argument to win. Looking at Dean and Sam, you pointed to your leg. “Am I bleeding?”

Both men slowly shook their heads no.

You turned on Lucifer and laughed victoriously. “HA! See? Fake. Just like you!” Your hand waved through the knife and it disappeared, along with the pain. 

“Maybe I can’t make you bleed, but I’m real. Oh, so very real. _In Sammy’s mind_ , sweetheart. There’s no way you’re creative enough to come up with half of the things I’ve told you. If you don’t believe it, why don’t you just ask him? He’ll tell you all about the fun we had in the Cage. That time in the mental hospital. Don’t you think he’d just love hearing about all of that again? Knowing that, now, I’m doing it to you, too? Haha! Good times, man!!” He plopped back down into his chair with a proud grin.

You pictured it: Sam knowing that you were living with his own personal hell. The way the color would leech from his face. How responsible he’d feel. It would be just as bad to him, if not worse, than if you’d just let him get hit with the spell, himself. He would blame himself. No.

You couldn’t tell Sam. So, you held on.

“This is so delicious!” Lucifer crowed. “You could be cured by now, but then you’d have to admit that you lied about little old me! But then Sammy would feel SO GUILTY!! But he already feels SO GUILTY because he can’t cure you!!” He laughed so hard he nearly fell out of his chair. “Man, I wish I had thought of something like this when I had Sammy boy in the Cage with me. This is perfect! It’s like a two-for-one deal! Buy one, get one free! _BOGO!!!_ ”

While Lucifer went on to sing a tuneless jingle about a guilt BOGO, you held your head in your hands to try to rub away the ache that was spreading behind your eyeballs. Sam’s hand was warm when it landed gently on your back, rubbing away some of the tension.

“Aunt Dottie getting physical?” Sam asked, trying to lighten your load with a laugh.

“Yeah. I think she’s possessed, now. The spell must have decided that she’s not scary enough to kill me and it’s trying to up the stakes. Any minute now, a Wendigo is gonna drag me into the kitchen for lunch, I think,” you lied, bald-faced and smiling, with the little energy you had left, to protect Sam’s heart. He pulled you into a one-armed hug and you let your head rest on his shoulder for a moment, feeling his quiet strength seep into you.

Lucifer thwarted your attempt at peace with his air horn, splitting you apart from Sam, but between the squawks, you heard the Bunker door open and slam shut. Down the stairs came Rowena’s dainty little high-heeled shoes, magically not getting a stiletto heel caught in the iron webbing that made up each step.

She greeted the brothers, then came directly over to you with concern in her eyes. “Poor dear. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.” She dropped her bag on the table, moved you and a chair so she could face you, and sat you both down, taking your hands in hers and looking you over. She looked into your eyes and you startled when hers began glowing with a purple light. 

“Did I ever tell you about how I killed her?” Lucifer cooed, so proud of his work. “Not the first time, that was boring, but the _second_ time. That was a thing of beauty, man.” He gave you the graphic details, making you flinch away from Rowena’s gaze in disgust. Rowena dropped your hands, leaned back in her chair with a grimace, and sighed. She considered you for a long moment, her face haunted, then stood up, collecting ingredients from her bag and ordering the boys to bring others.

When everything was gathered, Sam shuffled nervously next to her as she ground ingredients into a paste with her mortar and pestle. “Rowena, that’s the same spell we tried the first time, and it didn’t work. Did I do it wrong or something?”

You tried not to look alarmed, hoping Rowena would keep your secret.

Instead of answering Sam, she simply plucked a hair from his head, adding it to the paste. Sam started to argue, but Rowena shushed him with a finger. She applied the paste in an intricate design on the back of your hand and recited the spell to banish Lucifer from your mind. The image of him sitting in the chair, sticking out his forked tongue at you, burned on the back of your retinas for a moment before finally fading, forever. 

“Better?” she asked curtly, obviously stifling her urge to be angry at having come all this way for next to nothing.

You nodded without speaking, letting your eyes drop to the floor in private shame. The brothers heaved a sigh of relief, and Dean talked about going out for a supply run to celebrate.

Rowena lifted your head with a hand at your chin until you were looking her in the eye once more. She gave you a forgiving smile and said quietly, “I understand, dear girl, so I’m not cross. But you need to tell him.”

With that, she turned and began gathering her things. “So, while I’m here, anyone fancy a wee cup of tea? Maybe with a dram of whiskey?” She carried her bag with her as she headed towards the kitchen, Dean following behind.

Sam, however, came and sat down in the chair Rowena had just vacated, looking like a lost puppy. The silence was so loud, now that Lucifer was gone, that it left a ringing in your ears. Could your physical ears ring from the effects of a hallucination or was this just psychosomatic? 

Part of you realized you were avoiding thinking about Sam and what he might be thinking, and another part of you mocked that part of you because obviously, you were thinking about whatever Sam was thinking, in spite of your efforts not to.

His voice cut through the gordian knot of your thoughts. “It was my fear you were seeing, not yours, wasn’t it?” 

You nodded. 

“Lucifer?”

You raised your eyes to see his face, to see the pale fear in his eyes, and hardened yourself. “No.” Looking straight into his eyes, you lied. Again.

He didn’t fall for it, though. Sam sighed. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

You deflated, hanging your head again to avoid looking him in the eyes. “If you knew what I was seeing, then I knew you’d feel guilty about it. I knew you’d relive everything, yourself, _while_ feeling guilty. By the time I’d realized that you were the key to fixing it, I just… I couldn’t.” Fear of your own feelings being stripped bare, and then decimated by rejection, kept you from saying more. 

He leaned forward, trying to look into your eyes, but you shied away. “Y/N, we could have cured you _almost two days ago_ if we’d known! You put up with…,” his voice faltered, “... _Two days_ , Y/N! _My_ fears? I can’t even imagi-....” He cut himself off, sitting back in his chair, wiping his hand down his face, and looking away for a long moment. Finally, he leaned forward again, grabbing your hands from where they sat in your lap, and trying to look into your eyes again. “Just to keep me from feeling bad?” 

Nodding, you still tried to avoid his gaze, but he wouldn’t have it. He stood up, pulling you up with him, and wrapped one arm around you while he tipped your face up to his. His hand was big and warm, his fingers stretching across your cheek to your ear while his palm warmed your neck. His other hand was on your back, holding you closer to him than was safe for your heart while he looked down at you like _that_. 

The respect and admiration and _care_ you saw in his eyes weakened your knees. His hold was steady, though, and you didn’t budge an inch. He stared into your eyes, you thought maybe even hopefully, and asked one more time, “Why?”

Your walls crumbled, faced with your exhaustion and his warmth and sincerity. Two nights with no sleep left you with nothing to shore up your defenses. Brick after brick after brick fell apart into dust in spite of years of careful masonry. “Because I love you, Sam, and I never want to hurt you. I jumped in front of that spell because I knew my fears were nothing compared to yours and I couldn’t bear to watch you suffer.” 

Sam just breathed, still staring at you like you weren’t real.

Heart rate spiking at the silence returned, you tried to backpedal. “I mean, I love both you and Dean, and I don’t want to see either of you hurt, you know? And, of course, Lucifer kept saying things that convinced me that telling you was a bad idea. Remind me next time not to listen to murderous hallucinations, yeah?” _Back away, look away, get away_ , the panic sectors of your brain screamed like a klaxon. 

Sam wouldn’t let you squirm out of his hold, though, keeping you pressed up against him, his hand moving to the back of your neck to hold you in place while he kissed you.

There was a second or two while your brain caught up to reality before you melted into him. Everything faded away while his lips moved against yours, your tongues sliding against each other hesitantly, as you got to know each other in this new way.

A throat clearing startled you into separating. You both turned to see Rowena under the archway leading into the library, standing there with a giddy smile, and Dean behind her grinning like it was Christmas. Warmth bloomed in your cheeks, and you saw Sam’s cheeks turn pink, too. Sam cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair, but then grabbed your hand with his and pulled you towards the nearest exit in the back of the library, away from his brother and the witch. 

“We’re, ah, gonna go watch some Netflix or something,” he said over his shoulder, neither of you stopping for idle chit chat. His gentle tugging on your hand as he moved you toward the door made you chuckle and grin, almost giggling due to your exhaustion.

“Together? _Alooooone?_ ” Dean teased, calling after you, his laughter floating down the hallways as you raced to Sam’s room. “Don’t you want Rowena to put a noise-canceling spell on your room before she goes?”

When you were finally behind closed doors, Sam pulled you into his arms again. “I think we’ve waited long enough, don’t you?”

“Oh, yeah,” you said with a sigh before Sam’s lips landed on yours once more.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry that it's been nearly a year since I've written anything. Between *waves at the world in general* and some personal stuff, I just haven't had the energy to be creative. What little creativity I've had has gone into stuff for the Pond. I don't know if this will improve, either. The next few weeks will tell me. I've got another fic burning a hole in my brain, so if I post that soon, then yay! If not, I'm sorry. Just know that I'm not done writing, and when things calm down, I will be back!
> 
> In the meantime, thank you all for sticking with me in spite of it all!! ♥♥♥♥♥


End file.
